An overnight stay and yet more new feelings
Last night I got a call from Steph's mum "Adam, it's Pat, Stephanie is here crying that her stomach hurts, so I am going to the hospital so they can reassure her".
At which point I thought "OK, no worries, probably something over nothing, go see the doctor and he will tell her everything is fine". Which, as it transpired, is exactly what happened.
I received the call at work, just as I was leaving, so I had to endure a half hour walk to Charing Cross, plus an hour train journey to Dartford, in which the only company I had was my imagination.
By the time I had got to Dartford, and flagged a taxi down to take me to Darent Hospital I was full of worse case scenario's and panic!
After I had been briefed by the doctors, Steph and her mum, it became clear to me that the baby was absolutely fine and the problem lay in Steph's "water", which showed signs of an infection - as a precaution they would be keeping her in overnight.
Both of us endured sleepless night's as we struggled to cope without each others company, or in Steph's case a rock hard bed and women arriving through the night after giving birth to their own children!
Bright and early this morning I was back up at Darent to get the overnight latest, and hopefully bring Steph home - which was the plan, but I hadn't banked on the four hour wait for some antibiotics!
All's well that ends well, but sitting in the delivery room last night, I became aware of a sheer feeling of excitement as I took in the machinery and medicinal smell of the room itself. I had mental images in my mind of the baby being born, blood everywhere and me puking politely in the nearest corner.
Another sensation I felt was this morning, sitting in the ward next to Stephanie who was lying in bed was shear frustration! Opposite us was a lady who had just given birth to her first child - a son. Next to her was a lady who had a girl by cesarean section, and finally to Stephs left was another women, with another son. Steph's bed had beside it, a cot, ready for a baby, and a formal sign on the cabinet which read "please place your baby back in it's cot before you go to sleep", all of which were things we should be seeing in six weeks time, not right now!
I sat and watched the women feeding their newborns, Dad's turning up looking like Cheshire Cat's an laden with flowers and balloons, all the time thinking "I want my Baby now!".
Time will fly by, I know, and I will soon be writing all the clichés in the world how wonderful it was etc, but these little stages of realisation, for me, have been the best parts of the pregnancy. The feelings that have grown as the pregnancy has gone on, and the excitement that is now building is quite incredible!
At which point I thought "OK, no worries, probably something over nothing, go see the doctor and he will tell her everything is fine". Which, as it transpired, is exactly what happened.
I received the call at work, just as I was leaving, so I had to endure a half hour walk to Charing Cross, plus an hour train journey to Dartford, in which the only company I had was my imagination.
By the time I had got to Dartford, and flagged a taxi down to take me to Darent Hospital I was full of worse case scenario's and panic!
After I had been briefed by the doctors, Steph and her mum, it became clear to me that the baby was absolutely fine and the problem lay in Steph's "water", which showed signs of an infection - as a precaution they would be keeping her in overnight.
Both of us endured sleepless night's as we struggled to cope without each others company, or in Steph's case a rock hard bed and women arriving through the night after giving birth to their own children!
Bright and early this morning I was back up at Darent to get the overnight latest, and hopefully bring Steph home - which was the plan, but I hadn't banked on the four hour wait for some antibiotics!
All's well that ends well, but sitting in the delivery room last night, I became aware of a sheer feeling of excitement as I took in the machinery and medicinal smell of the room itself. I had mental images in my mind of the baby being born, blood everywhere and me puking politely in the nearest corner.
Another sensation I felt was this morning, sitting in the ward next to Stephanie who was lying in bed was shear frustration! Opposite us was a lady who had just given birth to her first child - a son. Next to her was a lady who had a girl by cesarean section, and finally to Stephs left was another women, with another son. Steph's bed had beside it, a cot, ready for a baby, and a formal sign on the cabinet which read "please place your baby back in it's cot before you go to sleep", all of which were things we should be seeing in six weeks time, not right now!
I sat and watched the women feeding their newborns, Dad's turning up looking like Cheshire Cat's an laden with flowers and balloons, all the time thinking "I want my Baby now!".
Time will fly by, I know, and I will soon be writing all the clichés in the world how wonderful it was etc, but these little stages of realisation, for me, have been the best parts of the pregnancy. The feelings that have grown as the pregnancy has gone on, and the excitement that is now building is quite incredible!
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